


favOriTe cousin.

by orphan_account



Category: LOONA (Korea Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: !!, 5+1 Things, Based on a Tumblr Post, Cousin Meme, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Family Bonding, Groundhog Day, Swearing of course but not from Gowon the classy Queen, Time Loop, but it's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 02:11:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16714561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "hey cuz! it's november 24th!" over and over and over again.(or, alternatively, five times they hung out and one time they really hung out.)





	favOriTe cousin.

**Author's Note:**

> first off: yikes. AIGHT SO BOOM. im a crackhead but wbk. i was stuck in a car for an hour and needed to do something or else i'd fall asleep, ad then this came along while i was thinking of gowon because i can tf. so then i was like, lemme get productive--and the yoongi and gowon cousins joke paired with this tumblr prompt about 2 ppl being stuck in the same day and acting out (lol sike, creativity machine broke on that part) seemed like a perfect match.
> 
> also while we're here... stan bts and stream mono, whore$.

**(Er... Preface. Exposition and whatnot.)**

**  
**  
The two acted like strangers when in fact they weren’t; Yoongi and Chaewon were both in the habit of doing that, till recently. They were cousins, distantly sure, probably through a series of family marriages, but still, _ohana_  and what have you.  
  
They still had a fatass seven year gap that was quite a bitch to work around when they dismissed all the kids at the family gatherings.  
  
Yoongi was ten, playing with monster trucks. Chaewon was three, also playing with monster trucks but with the addition of sparkly Lisa Frank stickers on them—and also crying, and pissing herself because she was too afraid to ask for help and a bathroom.  
  
Other times, a bit later down the line, Yoongi was fourteen, old enough to hang around the neighborhood with his cool older cousins who went to buy cheap drinks and smack on salty noodles just to avoid eating Aunt Areum’s fancy, American, nasty, _disgusting, horrendous, atrocious_ potato salad with raisins.  
  
Raisins!  
  
If that wasn’t the most Caucasian thing! Yoongi wanted nothing to do with it.

  
Chaewon was seven, and of course tried it, spitting out the raisins after dramatically mistaking them for flies.  
  
Another family reunion of the Min-Park-Woo lineage (yeah, there were some Woos in there) included a moon bounce, or a bouncy house; a thingamajiggy, really.  
  
It was Yoongi’s shift to watch the kids to make sure none of them busted their asses or broke their noses while in the padded walls of a Caillou-colored, castle shaped moon bounce.  
  
Chaewon had gotten out, randomly telling him to ‘watch this.’  
  
Oh no, she was gonna do a trick and bust her ass—the exact opposite of what she should!  
  
Yoongi was not trying to sop up the mood by getting backhanded by an angry aunt and having her baby—because she’s so tiny—escorted out on a gurney for a broken neck or a fully dismembered Achilles tendon or some crazy stuff like that.  
  
“Gowonie, how about we don’t do backflips?”  
  
Yoongi had poked his head into the moon bounce, looking at the array of little children he was barely related to. If she was to do a flip, all of them would get hit. Some of these kids were just children of his parents’ friends that he had to call aunts and uncles for the sake of calling them aunts and uncles. Half these kids, Yoongi doesn’t know from a jar of paint.  
  
Chaewon stops jumping abruptly, standing eerily still and staring at Yoongi through his emo black bangs; and holy crap her eyes were huge. She looked like a doll.  
  
A doll out to kill him.  
  
“My name’s not Gowon...” she starts, smoothly, before screaming, “it’s Chaewon!”  
  
The other kid start laughing when Yoongi stumbles back, ears nearly ringing from little homegirl’s pipes.  
  
“Okay then, Whistle Note,” he mutters, as a bitter teenager would when a ten-year-old beats them metaphorically, “My bad, Chaewon. But seriously, backflips are really 2008.”  
  
He shouldn’t have said that.  
  
All the kids leapt out of the jumpy haven, opting to follow Yoongi around in a choir loudly screeching that song by the Black Eyed Peas; specifically that one line.  
  
They must’ve spent hours practicing that one part. “I’m so 3008, you so 3000-and-late!” It was led by none other than Gowon herself, or _Chaewon_ as she liked to be called.

 

  
++ **(1.)**

 

  
Chaewon was eighteen now, blonde, and still had the eerie doll look down pat—but she wasn’t ugly. That wasn’t in the genes.  
  
Yoongi’s the only one who’s looks have done a full turn around. For some reason, his hair’s brown, and his eyes have become sharper, and he’s not as... plump as he used to be.  
  
“This is still really weird. I don’t even know where I was going. I feel like I had something to do.” The short girl laments.  
  
She rubs her hands on her arms, the fuzz from her sweater warming them.  
  
“Same here. I honestly was just going for a walk—or maybe a drive? I don’t know—what’s up with you? Why were you out here? All the way at the southeast side of town, no less; the worst part,” Yoongi emphasized. He liked his trashy side of town best.  
  
“I came here because my neighbor/friend kept talking about her girlfriend and if I heard ‘I’ll be the Adam to her Yves’ any more times, I was most definitely going to chuck myself off the roof,” she sighs awkwardly, averting her eyes, realizing she had told her business and her anonymous friend’s business too.  
  
They started walking, deciding to actually take time to get to know each other. Yoongi noticed the lack of honorifics but didn’t say anything, even though _‘oppa’_ was his favorite term in the entire Korean language simply because it implied respect and friendship all at once (and confused the heck outta foreign girls)  but—whatever. Chaewon wasn’t his friend yet and he doesn’t think she respects him yet either; just being polite.  
  
“That still doesn’t explain how you ended up on the east side? Aren’t you from the city? Incheon?” Yoongi laughs. “Seriously, what brought you here? People don’t come here unless they’re visiting family; not just because.” Yoongi guffaws.  
  
“Well, I certainly didn’t come to visit you, or to hear you insult my city, but,” she shrugs, adding some pep in her step, “I dunno how I got here. Train, I guess.”  
  
“You don’t know how?”  
  
She repeats sharply. “I don’t know how.”  
  
They walk in confused silence, it’s not so uncomfortable since their heavy footsteps against the pavement make up for a lot.  
  
Then some asshole shoulders Chaewon, and she was lightweight enough to be knocked to the ground. He then proceeds to be a dickhead.  
  
“Watch where you’re going, little girl.”  
  
Chaewon makes an appalled sound, and cholerically gets up, ignoring Yoongi’s hand and dusting off her jeans. “Hmph. Rude.”

  
“Sorry,” Yoongi apologizes, brushing some dirt off her back—and wow, she really was still baby sized— “But you can’t say I ain’t tell ya, it’s the bad side of town,” his tone was accent rich.  
  
They continue, making their way to a small eatery that sold thick sandwiches and finger food and other indulgent, overpriced shit.  Yoongi heard his pockets cry and felt them ache with every bill he removed but the food here was delectable so he presumes that the internal war was worth it.  
  
Chaewon sips at a coke, honestly like a princess—but cokehead’s more funny—and thanks him. “Why were you just taking a random walk?”  
  
“‘Cause my rent’s due and I’m trying to run away from my problems.”  
  
“It’s not like you can get evicted immediately.”  
  
Yoongi licks sauce off his thumb, “I’ve used up all my chances. My landlord’s through giving me grace periods, and I would ask my roommate to cover this one but he’s sleeping over at—“  
  
“His girlfriend’s house?”  
  
“Ding ding ding. We got a smart one over here.”  
  
“And you don’t want to interrupt their lovey-dovey time,” Chaewon interjects, completing his thought. She’s proud, her big eyes stare at him intuitively.  
  
“Gowon, are you psychic?” Yoongi spills before he can stop himself.  
  
She laughs, but it was forced and a little angry. “Who’s Gowon?” She grits. “This again?”  
  
“My bad, my bad, to me you look like a Gowon, _sorry,_ ” Yoongi’s hands are up in surrender. “When I tell you this is the bad side of town, I mean everyone’s a shithead; including myself.”  
  
“Well,” a smirk flickers on her face, “I suppose it’s good to be self-aware.”  
  
“Ouch. You didn’t have to agree, Blondie.”  
  
“Where to, next? You’re the tour guide here.” She takes the final bite of her big BL (hold the T) sandwich.  
  
“We could go to the park. The kids over there skate, it’s a cool scene.”  
  
A couple moments later, all they hear is wheels on pavement and children playing dangerously on jungle gyms the way they aren’t supposed to play on jungle gyms.  
  
“That shit fuckin’ hurted, bro!” They hear a prepubescent tween screech, clutching his kneecap and trying not to cry at the bottom of a rail. “Ow!”  
  
“Shut up, bastard, you’re not supposed to curse!” His friend smacked his head.  
  
Chaewon and Yoongi are at a bench, giggling like children at the skaters, earning some disapproving glances from pedestrians.  
  
Chaewon suddenly gets up, opting for the rusted but functional jungle gym, with monkey bars that were still too high for her to jump up and grab.  
  
Yoongi touches it with a single finger, just to annoy her. He smirks. “How old were you again?”  
  
“Stop talking to me like I’m a baby! I’m eighteen!” She whined.  
  
“Not convincing. I’ll stop talkin’ to you like a baby when you stop breakin’ your neck to look me in the eye,” he snorts, pleased with himself. He laughs even more when she shoves him.  
  
“Bet you can’t hang upside down.”  
  
“I’m twenty-five. I’m a full grown man.” He responds.  
  
Chaewon brushed blonde waves out of her eye. “Your point?”  
  
“Why would I want to?”  
  
At that predictable retort, she blows a raspberry, and starts tucking in her shirt, then climbing the ladder.  
  
She did exactly what she said she was going to do.  
  
“Cool,” Yoongi admits, poking her forehead, “Feel like a kid again?”  
  
She nods, with a bit of a struggle against gravity. Her face was reddening. “Oh yeah, nostalgia at it’s finest.”  
  
She got down coolly, icily in fact, with a flip, and checks her phone. Time had flown by so quick, and they’d barely done anything.  
  
It’s already six, and frankly put, Chaewon actually had important things to do today. Like watch ‘That’s So Raven’ in Korean subtitles with Jiwoo and make cheap, life hack dinner while irresponsibly dancing to first and second generation K-pop.  
  
She needed to make like Cinderella, and bounce. “Today was fun!” She states factually, with a slight bow, still keeping the formality between them, “I really had fun. But it’s getting late and I should go.”  
  
“Alright, cool. I can walk with you to the train station. It’s fall, you know, dark early. Bad—“  
  
“Bad side of town, got it.” She finishes for him. “Sure, you can come along. Give me your number, the next time we eat, I’ll buy.”  
  
“Gee. Thanks... _cuz,_ ” the older cousin grins.

  
  
++ **(2.)**

 

  
They walk in front of each other again, perfectly in line, on the same sidewalk. Again.  
  
“You look... familiar...” Chaewon greeted. “Min Yoongi? Son of Min Sungwoo? One of my uncles...”  
  
Yoongi rocked on his feet. “Second son of Min Sungwoo. You must be a long lost cousin from a reunion. Let me guess,” he brings a investigative finger to his chin, “Park Gowon, daughter of Park Chaebin, right?”  
  
“My name’s Chaewon,” she purses her lips.  
  
“Oh,” Yoongi draw his hand back as if he’s been burnt. “My bad, cuzzo.”  
  
She blinks quickly, “What?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Nothing.” She shakes her head, laughing slightly. “I just don’t remember what brought me here.”  
  
“To deep Daegu?” Yoongi restates. “Yeah, what does bring a kid like you across the city?”  
  
“I’m not a kid anymore. I’m almost a high school graduate!” She argues squeakily as they find themselves walking in rhythm.  
  
“Case and point. _Almost_ a high school graduate, not yet there, a kid,” Yoongi condescends, “or worse, a child.”  
  
She runs her hands through her golden locks, painted blue nails standing out starkly. “I can’t help that I’ve got a late birthday.”  
  
“Wanna catch up? I mean, the last time I even saw you was when you were like, ten, and I was seventeen—woah, that’s quite the gap.”  
  
“Case and point. You’re graying.”  
  
“Other case and point. We had nothing in common back then, maybe we do now. This is the only time I’ve ever offered to spend time with family that isn’t my hyung.”  
  
Chaewon resisted urges to roll her eyes into oblivion. “So I should feel special?”  
  
Yoongi shrugs. “I guess that came out wrong.” Yoongi was always calculated with the way he spoke, and he still was. He could’ve said much worse; but he’s just not a numbskull.  
  
Like the dude that just walked past and brushed Chaewon so hard  that she fell on her butt.  
  
“Bastards,” Yoongi grumbles, extending a hand out to the girl, who rejects his offer.  
  
That seemed familiar.  
  
Oh, okay. _Now_ it’s hitting him. Yoongi shook the feeling, but he couldn’t help but flinch a little when he heard, “Hmph. Rude.”  
  
“Let’s go to a sandwich joint I know,” the young man suggests, “It’s pricy, but it’s food for the soul.”  
  
There’s food for the mind.  
  
There’s food for the body.  
  
So there’s definitely food for the soul.  
  
“What’ll you two have?” The cashier asks cheerfully.  
  
“Chicken special for me, and a BLT, hold the T, for her.”  
  
She gives him a horrified look of bewilderment.   
  
Once her sandwich is in front of her, the first thing she says after taking a whiff is— _“How?_ How did you know?”  
  
Yoongi snorts. “You’re welcome. It was a good guess. You look like you don’t like tomatoes, like any sane person.”  
  
“I actually do like the baby tomatoes they put in salads, though,” she takes her first bite.  
  
“Baby tomatoes?” Yoongi repeats, puzzled, “You mean cherry tomatoes?”  
  
“Yeah, those!” She claps, “I couldn’t figure out the proper name for the life of me. But I think I like baby tomatoes better. So, why were you walking like you had nowhere to go? And why’d you stop for me? You could’ve easily ignored me like when you catch a classmate in the grocery store.”  
  
Yeah, Chaewon’s played that game before.  
  
“I was walking around for no specific reason, I just had to get out of the house.” Yoongi admits.  
  
“Let me guess,” the short girl smiles, having a gut feeling. “Your roommate’s out with his girlfriend for the week and you need help on rent but don’t wanna be a bother.”  
  
Yoongi chokes on a piece of bread.  
  
“That’s so spot on...”  
  
When they get to the park, the déjà vu really kicked in when they started speaking in broken Korean.  
  
They kept repeating the phrase over and over again, cackling at each repetition.  
  
“Hurted!”  
  
They were so easily amused and a little obnoxious. It was sad.  
  
Chaewon showed Yoongi that she still had it, hanging upside down on the jungle gym for the better part of a minute before caving in.  
  
At the train station, when Yoongi insisted on seeing her off because of the growing number of creeps getting bold at the dark hour of 6:30, they addressed the elephant.  
  
It was less than subtle when Chaewon starts the way she does, “Is it just me or am I feeling a strong sense of déjà vu?”  
  
He is reluctant to admit it, but he does. “Me too, I don’t know whether to feel reassured or creeped out by that, though.”

  
  
++ **(3.)**

  
They cross paths on the sidewalk again, and check their phones instinctively. It is, in fact, the same day as it was yesterday, and the day before. November 24th.  
  
It might as well have been the 64th with the way things are moving along. The city traffic bustles along the side of the sidewalk while static grass sits on the other side.  
  
“Okay, _one’s_ an accident—“ Chaewon starts, brows scrunching frustratedly.  
_  
_ _“Two’s_ a coincidence—“ Yoongi continues, “But three? Bad things happen in threes. I don’t play with demons, Gowon. Look! You’re even wearing the same outfit.”  
  
“No, I’m not, but you are,” she lifts her sweater, revealing a blue shirt that’s supposed to be pink. “And my name’s not Gowon!”  
  
He ignores her frustrations, continuing, “What type of ‘Groundhog Day’ loop-di-loop bullshit is this? I mean, I thought my phone was messing up, but the weather report’s the same, everything’s the same!”  
  
She looks at him, expecting a positive resolution, “Which means?”  
  
Realization hits after shallow thinking. “We can do whatever we want. No consequences.”  
  
“Let’s do what we’ve normally done.” Chaewon suggests. “Except, let’s get some ice-cream first,” she says, spotting a café with what they need. “I’ll pay.”  
  
“Okay,” Yoongi follows, confused because it’s cold as the north pole out here.  
  
Chaewon buys her ice-cream in a baby cone—the one that feels like styrofoam when you bite into it but then melts in your mouth weirdly—and it’s chocolate chip cookie dough; a complicated chemical equation of deliciousness.  
  
Yoongi has another complicated chemical equation of deliciousness, Snickers flavored with little salted peanuts inside because he’s sleek and prestige, like the new LG, but with a dash of flavor.  
  
Chaewon takes about two or three licks when they’re back on the sidewalk, and she is almost skipping with the petty thought that crosses her mind.  
  
She sees the man that’s predestined to bump into her rudely, and smushes his face with perfectly good ice-cream, coloring his face in clownish, edible makeup. He was a snowman now, and the cone was the carrot nose. His public embarrassment is her payback.  
  
Yoongi stifles a laugh behind his hand. “Gowon!”  
  
She’s feeling too accomplished to correct him as the man runs off to find somewhere to go wipe his face, but not before calling Chaewon a rude little word that she can’t even take seriously because she made him look like a melting wicked witch of the west.  
  
At the sandwich shop, they’re not feeling particularly hungry, just deciding to run amok because they can; after all, it’s still November 24th, 64th, 112th? Who the hell knew anymore?  
  
Chaewon takes the condiment bottles and uses them to graffiti smiley faces onto the tables with mayo white faces, mustard yellow eyes, and red ketchup lips.  
  
“So, you’re not robbing us?” The cashier asks. He was a bit slow, but all smiles nonetheless, to a comical fault.  
  
“Oh no, we don’t steal.” Chaewon asserts. “We would need masks for that. Plus, I’m more likely to steal your cola machine than I am your cash.”  
  
“Really?” The cashier spoke.  
  
“Really?” Yoongi spoke.  
  
“Yeah,” she nods and shrugs at the males staring at her judgmentally.  
  
Within five minutes, they were escorted out by police, and questioned separately.

That cashier had pushed the secret button.

  
They couldn’t even take it seriously, snorting whenever a question was asked and chortling to the point of exhaustion. Chaewon pulled back quickly though, exhibiting class when she answers truthfully.  
  
“It’s still the 24th.” She smiled.  
  
Her teeth were really white, even in the dark interrigation room lit by only a single bulb.  
  
“What do you mean by that? It’s _still_ the 24th? Mr. Min said the same thing!”  
  
“As long as it keeps going,  this doesn’t matter. Plus, what real trouble am I even in?”  
  
“You drew smiley faces on the tables with condiments!”  
  
“Not my most mature move, I admit. But that’s not criminal. It’s barely vandalism. I did the same stuff when I was a kid, too,” she looks at him with her magical eyes, trying to persuade him. “It’s called making a mess,” she nods slowly.  
  
Within a half hour, they’re released.  
  
“Sheesh, Gowonie, how’d you get us outta this one?”  
  
“Smooth talking. I watch a lot of crime shows.” She wasn’t even bothered by the name anymore, treating it as a nickname and hoping he was using it in that way too.  
  
“So you’re a smooth criminal,” Yoongi concludes, “huh.”  
  
“Let’s go somewhere. Anywhere more fun.”  
  
“Slow down, wild child! You swindle one cop and think you’re hot stuff.”  
  
“You’ve never swindled a cop. You jealous?”  
  
Yoongi scoffed, “No...” the he paused, “yes.”  
  
  
++ **(4.)**

 **  
**  
They walk right in front of each other again at the right time of day in front of the right crowd; but now Yoongi’s hair is black and they’ve finally figured out that same day did not mean same attire so they switched up their fits.  
  
“I feel like I can hear every clock ticking all at once,” Chaewon tilts her head, tapping her ear like she wants to get water out.  
  
“You went swimming or something?” Yoongi comments facetiously, ruffling her dry hair. “I’m calling a Lyft.”  
  
“Lyft? Why not an Uber?” There was nothing wrong with Lyft but Chaewon was genuinely curious.  
  
“It’s safer. Less likely to encounter a creep. I’ve actually had perverted, deviant-ass old dudes off Uber try to come into my apartment after dropping me off,” he shudders, “It’s gross to say the least and—well, I’ll say the least.”  
  
“Yeah, please, say less.” Chaewon begged, disgusted. “Where are we gonna go?”  
  
“Build-A-Bear.” He grunts.  
  
“Really!” Chaewon jumps. “I’ve always wanted one of those cute custom bears with the cute custom outfits! Oh my goodness.”  
  
Yoongi had said that as a joke, not expecting her to be so overjoyed and ecstatic about it.  
  
She was really childlike but he didn’t think it’d be to that point. So, he pokes fun at it.  
  
“Would you like a Barbie doll with that?”  
  
She scoffs. “What do you take me for?”  
  
At the bear shop, full of little kids dressing up their bear buds in different stations, Chaewon immediately goes to work on hers.  
  
She chose a fully black one and creatively names it Blackbear. She grabs a butterfly-themed dress and ruby red ‘there’s no place like home’ slippers for the teddy bear that ended up costing Yoongi a heavy ass swipe of his card.  
  
Now he’s really not paying rent.  
  
A teddy bear robbed him.

  
++ **(5.)**

 **  
**  
Chaewon appears to him, holding Blackbear in hand carefully, while listening to that new LOONA song.  
  
_Hi high hi high_ is blaring in her eardrums when she waves at Yoongi.  
  
“What do you do for a living?” She asks randomly when they start walking. The air still was feeling the chill of November 24th, 64th, 66th. “Cuzzo.”  
  
She was really going to avoid ‘oppa’ at any and all costs.  
  
Yoongi chewed his lip. “I make music, sorta.”  
  
“Sorta.” Chaewon deadpans, jaw slack.  
  
“My producer tag is ‘Suga.’”  
  
She squints, “You? Sugar? Isn’t that the phrase that’s always whispered... before RM starts singing? You produce for RM?” She’s impressed.  
  
“I live with RM.”  
  
That’s a whole n’other playing field. “You live with him?” She struggles to say it, the incredulity too severe. “He’s the roommate who’s been at his girlfriend’s house for who knows how long? Him? That’s crazy!”  
  
“Yeah. He’s never done a face reveal on social media either so, it makes it easy to go right over people’s heads. A ton of young people know RM, but they don’t know him, Kim Blank Blank.”  
  
Chaewon sucks her teeth, before picking a few flowery weeds growing in between the cracks and handing one to the dickhead, asshat, fucktard that almost bumps into her. He tried to ignore her, and even tried to sidestep her, but she caught his movement and trapped him in that awkward moment, forcing him to clear his throat and silently accept the flower.  
  
“You just did me dirty. You know how many Kims are in this country alone?”  
  
“I can’t just go revealing his identity. You might go blabbing to your neighborhood friend about it; then who’ll be the bad guy here? Me.” He explains.  
  
“Kim Blank Blank. I’ll meet him face to face one day.” Chaewon has collected an array of out of season flowers that’ll die in two days time but her good spirits keeps the flowers alive long enough to look cute to the people she hands them to.  
  
“Hey, Gowon, you know how to play chess?”  
  
“Of course I know how to play chess.”  
  
They come across a recreational area with old people chess tables and pieces already placed for them.  
  
“I’ll be black, you can be white.” Yoongi said.  
  
“Whoever wins three times, buys drinks.”  
  
Record scratch. “Drinks? What kind of drinks, girly?”  
  
“You know, drinks.” The girl had her pinky out.  
  
“Aren’t you, like, fourteen? When’s your birthday?”  
  
“I’m eighteen! My birthday’s November 15th. I’ve been eighteen for like, a week and a half now.” She counted.  
  
Yoongi huffs. “All you kids wanna do as soon as you hit eighteen is drink. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, you know. You are one badass kid, girly.”  
  
She chuckles. “Well, I do have a silver tooth.”  
  
“That explains it.”  
  
“So... drinks?” Her pinky is out, making their bet into a promise.  
  
“Drinks,” Yoongi wraps his pinky around her and swears.

  
  
++ ++ ++

  
  
Yoongi jolts out of bed, frazzled, and pads his bedside table for his phone.  
  
He checks the date.  
  
November 25th.  
  
The first thing he does is call his mother, extra confused. “Hey, mama, do you happen to have Aunt Chaebin’s address?”  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
“Of course I have Chaebin’s address! Is that all you called me for?”  
  
“Um, I love you?”  
  
“Yoongi, you are something else, you know that?” His mother points out.  
  
He acknowledged it, promising that he loves her and will call more often and not only when he needed something.  
  
He went to the bathroom and washed the hell out of his face, deep cleansed the shit out of his pores, and brushed the fuck out of his teeth. His hair... was still brown.  
  
It wasn’t dyed back to black, it was still brown. And it was November 25th and he remembered waking up.  
  
He grabs an apple and is out the door with nothing but car keys in his other hand.  
  
He finds the apartment, seeing someone else answer the door who he doesn’t recognize from a single family reunion.  
  
“You must be Jiwoo,” he exhales, like he’s been through a triathlon.  
  
The redhead nods with a smile. “Who’s this?” She asks like they’re on the phone.  
_  
_ “Can I speak to Gowo—Chaewon?”  
  
Jiwoo looks back, “Luckily for you, she just woke up,” he looks down at Jiwoo and realizes she does still have her pajamas on and so does he because it’s early.  
  
Chaewon slowly steps towards the door, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and really taking time to look at the face. “Yoongi?”  
  
“That’s me.”  
  
“I just had the weirdest dream.”  
  
“I just had the weirdest dream.”  
  
Yoongi blinks. “Jinx. Remember this?” He holds out his pinky.  
  
“You owe me drinks. My first drink, actually. Cuzzo.”

**Author's Note:**

> i realized korea's drinking age is 19 but from my knowledge they're a little lenient if you're 18 so it WORKS.
> 
> [[PSA]] if you breath air you're also obligated to stan loona.


End file.
